


"Slings and Arrows"

by farad



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-31
Updated: 2010-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After "Lady Killers", Chris and Vin come to an understanding about trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Slings and Arrows"

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my wonderful betas, Dail, Denorios, and Jen! Happy birthday to Carla and Kim!
> 
> The title is from Hamlet, by William Shakespeare:   
> "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer  
> The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,  
> Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,  
> And by opposing end them?"

"Buck gonna be all right?"

Chris looked up from the plate of beans and bacon, smiling despite himself as Vin struggled to keep his plate from moving across the table. It wouldn't be long before he untied the sling and used his left hand, and Chris almost wished Ezra were here to take a bet on exactly when.   
"Yeah, he'll get over it," he said, watching as Vin's features drew together in a frown of irritation as the plate moved once more, pushed by the spoon he was trying to fill.

"Shame about Kate," Vin said just before he finally cursed and dropped the spoon onto the plate. He grunted as he struggled free of the sling, and Chris knew the instant the pain caught him; even in the pale light of the lantern, Vin's face went white as his breath caught sharply.

He didn't ask, though, or offer to help; they were too much alike and he knew how much it pissed him off to be waited on when all he wanted was to eat in peace. Or have a strong drink.

With that, he pushed away from the table and walked over to one of the kitchen shelves, catching up the bottle of whiskey he'd unpacked earlier with the supplies they'd brought. "She's better off without her sister," he said, uncorking the bottle as he came back to the table. "Maddy was about as crazy as they come - you'd have offered to put her down if you'd been there." He poured several fingers into his mug then offered the bottle to Vin, who was breathing slow and shallow.

"Thanks," Vin managed to mumble but he was careful taking the bottle with his right hand, tucking his left arm back in close against his ribs. "Damned hitching post."

"Damned riders," Chris countered, easing back into his seat as Vin turned the bottle up and drank directly from it. "Damned lucky you didn't get yourself killed."

"Some of us ain't as talented as you are," Vin shot back after he swallowed. "And that woman I pushed out of the way wasn't nearly as light and easy to move as Billy Travis."

Chris grinned, picking up his spoon. "Bet she was a lot more fun to rub up against," he said, pleased when Vin's face flushed at the idea.

"Didn't hardly have time to notice," he said, setting the bottle down and catching up his spoon.

Wasn't hardly interested, either, Chris thought, watching Vin as he carefully caught the side of his plate while still trying to hold his left arm close in to his body. Other than that thing with Charlotte, Vin had never shown the first inkling of an interest in a woman, not that Chris knew of. And he knew why Vin had taken off with Charlotte, too - Vin never could say no to someone who needed help.

They ate in silence for a time, comfortable as it usually was between them, but Chris noticed that even with his arm free, Vin was still moving slow and careful. He was also drinking more of the liquor, an indication that the pain wasn't ebbing away. When he pushed his plate back, he asked, "You drinking Nathan's potions?"

Vin's head came up and he frowned. "Yeah, I'd just as soon this heal up as quick as possible. Don't like being hurt."

"How bad is it?" he asked, reaching for the bottle and refilling his mug.

Vin started to shrug but caught himself. The movement - or lack of it - was more answer than his words. "Had worse." But he put his spoon down and pushed at his own plate and Chris worried; it wasn't like Vin to turn away from food.

Chris got up from the table and gathered up the dishes, setting them on the sideboard. He'd heat water in the morning to shave so just as well do all the cleaning up at once.

Vin was up and moving to the door, so Chris called after him. "Call of nature?"

Vin looked back over his shoulder. "Thought I'd get some wood for the fire," he said, arching one eyebrow in a familiar challenge.

Chris grinned back. "How 'bout I do that and you set us up with more whiskey?"  
For a few seconds, Vin stared him down before he sighed but dropped his hand off the latch. "Reckon I can do that."

Chris nodded but as Vin drew near, he reached out and caught Vin's shoulder then slid his fingers along the back of Vin's neck. "Would have been a lot different if you'd been with us and not JD," he said, leaning in close.

"Yeah," Vin sighed, but he closed his eyes, brushing the tip of his nose against Chris' cheek. "But Nathan says JD's gonna be all right. Maybe he learned something from this, him and Buck both."

"Maybe," Chris agreed, but he was thinking more on what would have happened if Vin had gone with them. It could have been him lying up there in Nathan's clinic, shot through the side and bleeding all over the place.

"Chris," Vin murmured, drawing back a little. "Everything worked out." His eyes crinkled at the corners as he studied Chris' face. "I'm all right. And I swear to you, I'd never have turned my back on them girls."  
Chris nodded, knowing the truth of it. For a second, he thought about pulling Vin toward the bed and being done with the evening, losing himself in Vin's body, but Vin shifted, restless and probably still hurting. Reluctantly, Chris let him go and headed out the door.

When he got back, Vin was on his knees in front of the wood stove, stirring the embers. His left arm was still tucked against his ribs, but his features weren't pulled as tightly and he seemed a little more relaxed. He got up carefully and moved away, giving Chris space to add a few logs to the flames.

By the time Chris was happy with the fire, Vin had settled in a chair and was sipping on whiskey, his long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. Chris put away the rest of the wood then picked up his own mug, which Vin had filled, and sat down in a matching chair. The quiet between them was comfortable, leaving Chris to his thoughts while providing him with company and, he realized, something pleasing to look at.

The thought didn't come of a sudden but rose slowly from a tangle of different threads, starting at the idea of Buck and Kate, the woman bounty-hunter who Buck had been so hot for – up to the moment that her sister had shot and almost killed JD. Kate was an attractive woman, blond, blue-eyed, slender, damned good with a gun from what he'd been able to tell, and direct. Given what they'd learned about her past and how she'd ended up with Del Spivak, Chris' initial reservations about her had given way to a grudging respect. She had grit.

But the shadow of attraction that he'd felt for her drifted past like a cloud on a sunny day, barely causing a stir as he found his eyes drawn to Vin. Darker hair, bluer eyes, longer-limbed – everything about him was stronger than Kate, more imprinted on Chris. Where his desire for Kate was a passing cloud, what stirred in him for Vin was a storm with high winds, blowing him right off the track of his life. He felt it now, the electrical charge of lightning, the growing rumble of thunder as his blood heated and pulsed harder.

It wasn't meant to be like this, this feeling for Vin. What was between them was supposed to be easy, convenient, something that came every now and then when he'd been too long away from Purgatory or somewhere else where he didn't have obligations and couldn't form attachments – and where others, women, couldn't form attachments to him. That had been his thinking for years now, since he'd lost Sarah and Adam.

It was why he'd given in to the want for his friend – Vin was a man, he understood that there were no strings. Easy, quick – hell, usually desperate, at least at first. The first time they'd come together in the barn, in the middle of summer, both hot and sweaty after working all day on the corral fence. Vin had dumped a bucket of tepid water over his head and stood there with his hair and shirt drenched, his face turned up and water running down it in little streams. Chris' tongue had tingled to taste, and before he realized it, they were humping against each other, their pants barely opened before they were both too far gone to stop.

After, they'd been awkward for about three minutes, until Vin had grinned that strange little grin of his and said, "Hell, Chris, you need to get out more!" Then he'd turned and walked out of the barn, straightening his clothes as he went and whistling as he usually did – as if not one damned thing had happened.

He'd not made mention of it again – not even after it happened a fourth and fifth time, each time as fast and desperate as the first. But after that, it started happening more regularly, with less time between. Chris wasn't sure when he'd stopped being the one to start it – no, that wasn't right. He'd always been the one to start it, just as he had been the one in the doorway a few minutes ago, putting his hands on Vin. He was always the first one to touch.

But somewhere along the way, Vin had started – doing something. Eye contact, or a shift of his hips as he leaned against something, or maybe even that damned little grin – something he did would heat Chris up, and Vin damn well knew it. He was doing it now, sitting there with his head back against the chair, his eyes mostly closed, his hands in his lap. His lips quirked just a little – not a grin, but almost. A tease.

"You're thinking too hard," Vin said softly, but Chris had grown so accustomed to the gentle crackle of the fire and the press of his own thoughts that the sound of the raspy voice startled him.

He jerked, almost dropping his mug, and his mouth worked before his brain caught up. "What game are you playing? Why are you here with me and not off with some woman?"

Vin didn't move in any way that Chris saw, but everything about him changed. His body tensed and straightened, his fingers drawing into fists. He opened his eyes and his lips thinned into a straight, stark line. "Why ain't you?" he countered, his voice as hard as his white knuckles.

A hundred reasons rushed to mind, from losing his family to being in this town with all eyes on him, everything that'd led him to Vin to start with. But there were too many, apparently, because the answer that came out of his mouth wasn't in his head. "'Cause I'm here with you."

Part of him thought that it was meant in anger – that he'd have been out keeping company with a woman if he hadn't been here with Vin, taking care of him in his time of injury. But that part was weak and faint, and the anger that should have been in the tone wasn't there.

Instead, he knew it for what it was: the truth.

He stared across the distance, willing himself to catch the anger and the fear – they were burning in the pit of his belly, as hot as the stove beside him. But that fire didn't catch, not as it should. A different fire caught as Vin blinked and the tension in him eased. His voice was still hard, but the rasp was stronger and the pitch was lower, deeper, thrumming through Chris' groin.

"Reckon I could say the same."

There was no way to mistake what Vin meant, no way to even pretend. The thing was, it wasn't a surprise; Chris had known for a time now that whatever this thing was between them, whatever it was that was pushing him to Vin was pushing at Vin, too. And it probably had been for a lot longer than Chris wanted to think on.

Vin's gaze was direct, no real challenge, not even a dare, but it was uncompromising. He wasn't going to back down from what he was saying or what he was feeling.

Strangely, the tension in Chris, the burn of anger and fear, was already dying out, cooled by a wash of relief and, when he let himself acknowledge it, hope.

The other fire, the one that had been faint but steady, blazed a little stronger now, growing as he met Vin's gaze, answering it evenly.

"How much are you hurting?" he heard himself ask, the sound distant, muted by the rush of blood as it headed south.

Vin's lips quirked knowingly, and the rush grew louder. "Not that much," he answered, the pitch of his voice dropping a little. He shifted, easing himself straighter in the chair before dropping his left arm from his ribs.

It was as the palms of his hands hit the side of the chair's seat that Chris saw it, the wince and the tightening of Vin's lips as he tried to hold the quirky grin in place.

Vin leaned forward, only it was more like a hunch, and before Chris thought, he reached out and caught Vin's shoulders. His intent had been to steady the other man, but as his fingers closed over the hard, solid muscles, he felt the kick in his belly that only came from one thing: desire.

He swallowed, watching as Vin's breath caught and he tried to pretend that he was all right. The pain wasn't fierce but it was there.

"I'll be good," Vin said, lifting one hand and dropping it on Chris' wrist. "It's all right."

'I'll be good'. The words thrummed low in his belly, adding to the heat there, the heat that was growing. They rang with a certain submission, a promise of behavior that Chris knew was impossible for the man he was holding. Vin Tanner could no more lay still and let something happen to him - something good or bad - than Chris could himself. 'I'll be good'. Not very damned likely, not once his clothes were off.

"Only if you're tied down," Chris muttered, but as the words left his mouth, the idea truly blossomed in his head.

And, from the look of it, in Vin's. "No," Vin said pulling back. His face drew tighter, partly with pain but partly with displeasure. "I ain't letting anybody - "

"So now I'm just anybody?" Chris cut in. But he sat back, letting his hands fall to his lap and giving Vin space. "Just a minute ago, you were saying that you were here because I was."

Vin glared, his eyes bright in the shadows of the room. Then he sighed. "Chris," he said, quietly. "You know there's a difference between what you want to get up to and what I meant."

With effort, Chris held himself still. "Yeah," he said, pressing his fingers into his thighs, "I know. But I guess I need to know how much you trust me. You do trust me, don't you?"

Vin blinked, the frown returning. "You really asking me that?"

Chris gave it a few seconds before answering. "They're different kinds of trust," he said. "We all trust each other with our lives, every day. And I guess you trust me with a few things you don't trust nobody else with." He tilted his head to one side, calculating. "You do, don't you? I mean, you ain't bending over for one of the others, too, are you?"

Vin's lips thinned and he pushed out of the chair, his knees bumping Chris' as he stood. "I said I'd rather be here with you. Nobody else." He stepped to one side, away from Chris, but as he moved forward, Chris reached out and caught his wrist. Vin's hands bent into fists, the knuckles white, but Chris ignored that, pulling Vin to a stop.

As he looked up at the other man, he saw the flare of Vin's nostrils, the sharp line of one cheek, the skin of his face drawn tight with anger. It was a look he knew well even though he didn't see it often. It had never been directed at him, and he knew he was pushing too hard, and perhaps too far.

He opened his mouth, but no words came. It wasn't a surprise, not really; words had never been his strong suit. Nor, thankfully, had they been all that necessary between him and Vin. He stood slowly, still holding Vin's wrist. Vin stared at him, his gaze hard but even.

Chris stood for a few seconds, just holding Vin's gaze, then, as slowly as he had stood, he leaned in, letting his lips brush against Vin's. He was standing to Vin's side so the angle was a little off, and he bumped Vin's nose. Vin was still stiff, unmoving, but he didn't try to pull away.

He never had.

"I know," Chris whispered, Vin's last words still echoing in the back of his head. He stayed close, letting the next words blow softly across Vin's cheek, barely making a sound but knowing that the words screamed in Vin's head as well as they did in his own. "Me, too."

Vin was still for a while longer, but gradually Chris felt the change in him, the loosening of his muscles, the slump of his shoulders, the slow draw of a breath. Vin didn't say anything but after a time he sighed, and his head turned just a little, enough for his nose to touch Chris' cheek.

"You should be using your sling," Chris murmured, but he smiled as the smell of Vin, leather and horse and sweat and Vin himself, touched parts of him so deep inside that he had forgotten they were there.

Vin sighed once more, but his nose tickled over Chris' skin as Vin shook his head.

He didn't move as Chris drew away but Chris waited. Vin had to make the decision.

It wasn't fast, but Chris hadn't expected it to be. When Vin shifted, lifting his head to meet Chris' gaze, Chris felt the weight of it, the responsibility. This wasn't a game between them - it never had been. Their sex had always been intense, from the very first time. Even when Chris had tried to pretend otherwise.

Now, though, the full significance of what he was asking was clear to him. This was about trust, on a level that they'd never dared broach before. Because it was a level of trust that came with a promise, one Chris hadn't given in a very long time. One he'd thought, in those rare moments when he could think of it at all, that he would never give again.

But here it was, staring at him with sky-blue eyes, busted ribs, and a promise as true and dangerous as any Chris had ever had. Fear stabbed deep in his belly, cold enough to make him sweat. He'd made a promise before, one he'd failed to keep and it had cost him more than he could get back.

Vin moved, a slight tilt of his head that pointed his chin toward the table. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to.

The stabbing cold went deeper, and Chris froze with it. His mind twisted, throwing up all the reasons this was a bad idea, throwing up the memory of that burning house and his own well of grief.

As the images came, though, a warmth seeped into his belly and into his thoughts. Vin was promising, trusting. And Vin knew Chris' failings better than any man.

Chris' legs moved, turning him to the table, and his hand caught at the knotted square of cloth. It had been clean once, the day Nathan had put it on Vin, but now it was smudged with dirt and sweat and coffee and food and Lord knew what else. Chris worked the knot apart as he turned back to find Vin standing as he had been, watching Chris' fingers. His eyes were wide and bright and about as scared as Chris knew his own had been.  
They really were too much alike, and that went as far as anything could to do away with the lingering cold.

He walked back to Vin, holding up the cloth. It was a large square, creased where it had been folded in half and wrinkled at the two corners that had been knotted. The edges were fraying, and it was threadbare in places, but it would do what Chris wanted it to do.

Chris stopped close to Vin and let the cloth drop. Carefully, he lifted one hand to cup Vin's jaw, smiling as stubble tickled the calloused flesh of his fingers. It had taken him a while to get used to this, touching skin that was unquestionably male, but now he thought of it as another part of Vin.

Vin closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. Just as he always did. As before, with the anger, he didn't seem to move, but the tension around him, the fear, palpably eased.

Chris let their lips touch again. This time, he pressed harder, not hard, but enough to be a kiss. Vin pressed back, his lips beginning to move under Chris'. Chris moved his hand, adjusting the tilt of Vin's head and sliding his fingers into the wealth of Vin's hair. For a while, he lost himself in the simple pleasure of tasting and teasing, his blood moving more quickly as his tongue gained entry to Vin's warm, wet mouth.

The kiss ended when he reached to put his arm around Vin's waist and found himself tangled in the cloth he was holding. It took him a second to recall why he was holding it - but only a second. As he pulled back, he had to lock his arm to keep Vin's mouth from following. His lips tingled as they parted, then they tingled more when he found himself grinning.

Vin's eyes blinked reluctantly open. His lips were shiny in the pale light and swollen, and his face was flushed. He looked just like Chris liked to see him - relaxed, aroused, and willing.

Chris stared for a few seconds, enjoying the sight but also thinking. Vin had taken off his coat, just as Chris had, earlier, and they'd both taken off their guns before they sat down to eat, leaving them on the table. Close, but out of the way for what he wanted to do, what they wanted to do.

"What?" Vin asked, his voice more raspy than usual.

Chris studied him, then he reached out, touching the top button of Vin's shirt. "Gonna leave this on," he said, letting his finger trail down the path of buttons regretfully. He loved the feel of Vin's skin against his, the way they fit against each other, rubbed against each other when the mood was on them. But tonight they had to be careful. Vin had to be as still and unmoving as possible.

Vin's hands rose, one swatting at Chris' finger, the other reaching for the top button. But Chris caught that hand and pulled it against his own chest.

"Trust me," he said softly, pressing Vin's hand close.

Vin didn't frown this time, and even though he sighed, he nodded, once.

Chris lifted the hand he was holding, kissing the scarred knuckles before guiding it back toward Vin's torso then positioning it so that it was wrapped in the familiar pose he had seen so much as of late, protecting the ribs.

Vin made a noise, a little grunt, but he didn't resist. His fingers tightened, clutching at the cloth of his shirt.

Chris kissed him quickly, a soft touch, before he doubled the cloth that had been the sling, making it once more into a triangle. He stretched the cloth out, covering Vin's chest and the one arm that was braced against his ribs. He stepped in close, his arms going around Vin as he brought the ends of the long side of the triangle together in the center of Vin's back. It was close - the cloth barely reached all the way around, especially with Vin's arm under it, but Chris managed to get the ends knotted together. The cloth held Vin's arm in place tightly, trapping it against his body.

The third end was an even tighter reach, and he had to pull the first knot up, stretching the cloth even tighter. Trapping Vin's arm, just the one, and it was the left, but still, it left Vin vulnerable. At Chris' mercy.

Vin's breath caught, his body flush against Chris', his cheek hot against Chris' neck. His right arm curled around Chris' waist, holding him as he whispered, "I trust you."

Chris gave himself a moment to appreciate the heat in his belly that coiled up into his chest and through his body. Through his mind.

"Come on," he said, letting his hands slide to Vin's waist and guiding him toward the bed.

It wasn't a long walk, the cabin wasn't that large. Nor was the bed. Chris helped Vin sit down on it, then he sank to his knees, resting his hands on Vin's thighs. The part of the room where the bed sat, close to the stove but still against one wall, was dark but reasonably warm. It was hard to make out Vin's face, only the glint in his eyes and the flash of his teeth when he grinned.

"Reckon you must be serious," Vin said, his voice still raspy but amused. "Lot of work for you this way."

Chris looked up into, catching Vin's gaze at just the right spot in the light. "Reckon I can do that," he answered, grinning. He pulled off Vin's boots, setting them to one side, then he ran his fingertips up the inside of Vin's thighs. Not that he had to; he knew Vin was ready for him. From the moment he'd gone to his knees, he'd destroyed any resistance Vin had been clinging to.

Vin's pants were older, worn to a softness that made it easy to draw the buttons through their holes. Vin had chosen them intentionally, finding it easier to do what he needed to do one-handed. It was almost too easy for Chris, especially with the pressure of the bulge under the buttons, pushing them from the other side.

Vin's erection, fully hard, bounced as Chris drew back the folds of cloth. Without a thought, Chris closed one hand over it, appreciating its heat and firmness. Once, he'd been shy about touching a cock that wasn't his own, but those days were long past.

Vin groaned, a sound Chris loved. Getting Vin to lose control was one of the challenges he gladly accepted, and getting him to give voice to his pleasure had gotten easier over the time they'd been together.

Vin leaned back, resting on his one free arm. Chris looked up in time to see the wince as Vin moved, the corners of Vin's eyes tightening and his lips, already thinned with pleasure, thinning a little too much.

He waited until Vin drew a steady breath, then he bent down and with no warning, he sucked in the head of Vin's cock. Retrospectively, it wasn't the smartest thing to do, as Vin wasn't prepared. It wasn't the first time Chris had ever done such, but it wasn't something he did often, and right now, with one arm trapped and the other bracing his weight, Vin didn't need surprises.

He cried out, his hips jerking of their own accord before Chris thought to get a grip on them, and for a second Chris choked. Then Vin was still, and Chris knew the movement had hurt him, pulling on the ribs. He drew back and looked up, watching Vin's shuttered face until the pain passed.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't think about . . . "

Vin looked down at him, trying not to move. "You had to pick now, of all times," he said, but his lips twitched toward a grin. "Don't you worry none about me. I'll manage."

He did. Chris held his hips, helping to keep him still, but even with that, he could feel the tension in Vin as he struggled not to move his upper body while Chris teased and taunted him. It wasn't fair, and every now and then Chris had a passing thought that he should draw back and move on to what he wanted.

But Chris didn't do this often, and for all the effort it was causing both of them, Chris wanted this to be as special for Vin as it was for him.

It took a little longer than usual, but eventually, Vin pushed himself up, his free hand catching Chris' shoulder bruisingly. He curled forward, his confined arm bumping against Chris' head, but not for long. He pressed his fingers into Chris, hard, and called breathlessly, "Chris, don't - stop - "

Chris pulled back and away, just barely getting clear of the fountain of Vin's release. Chris' hand was at the base of Vin's erection, and he felt the jerking as the muscles worked, surrendering to what Chris had done. He squeezed, urging things along, and smiled when Vin cried out again in pleasure.

Vin was sharp and defined, his head back even though his body was hunched forward. Even in the shadows, Chris could see the bulge of his Adams apple, the long line of his nose. Nothing soft about him, no curves or submissiveness or surrender, not truly. He sat, holding on to Chris even as he suffered the bliss of release, the closed space around them taking on the scent of sex and Vin.

When he finally moved, it was a slow release of the rigor, his body slumping forward as his grip lessened and his head dropped toward his chest. "Damn," he mumbled.

"Yeah," Chris agreed, lifting a hand to push at Vin's hair so he could see his face more clearly.

Vin eyes were slow and sleepy, just like his smile. He turned his face into Chris' hand, his lips touching Chris' palm in a slight kiss. He looked over Chris' fingers, meeting his eyes as he lipped the rough calluses at the junction of Chris' palm and fingers. It was a strange feeling, almost a tickle but not quite.

"You gonna help me out of these pants?" The question was low, a rumble that vibrated through Chris, right to his gut. His erection twitched, rubbing against the rough weave of his denim pants and wanting its freedom.

He stretched up, answering Vin with a deep kiss that left them both breathless and Vin a little less sleepy-looking. Then he struggled to his feet, ignoring the protests of his knees, and stripped off his own boots and clothes. The room was warm, but not warm enough to make him as hot as he was right now. It was a struggle to get his pants down over his cock, and he was almost as amused as Vin was with the effort.

Getting Vin out of his pants was a lot easier, and a lot more pleasurable. Chris took his time pushing at the worn cloth, liking the way Vin's bare skin broke out in goosebumps at his touch, and liking the way Vin held onto him, not as hard as he had during the past few minutes but with more dependency, more need. He swayed as Chris helped him out of the puddle of fabric and when Chris' hand caught at his waist to steady him, he leaned into the embrace.

Chris straightened again, pulling Vin against him for another deep kiss. His erection fit snuggly between them, nestling into the plains of Vin's abdomen, rubbing into the mess Vin had left minutes before. It took Chris' breath away, the pressure, heat, and wetness - it was almost perfect, coupled with the weight of his tongue on Vin's.

Almost. Eventually, the hardness of Vin's arm, caught between them under the cloth tie, was bruising enough to be distracting, and it created enough distance that he couldn't get the friction he wanted. Vin, though, was the one to draw back first, arching one eyebrow as he looked at Chris.

"I reckon I ain't got but so much to offer, but I'm offering, if you want it."

There was no way to misunderstand what Vin was offering, and it wasn't just the part of him that Chris was already thinking on.

Everything.

Chris swallowed, his mouth dry, and even though fear fluttered above his desire, the desire was stronger, white hot now, and built on something more solid than he'd let himself see until now.

"I do," he said. The words hung between them for a second, and Vin's eyes widened. Then Chris smiled softly and said, slowly, "I do."

It seemed wrong not to see Vin's face, not to be able to look into his eyes, to feel his legs, his arms, wrapped around Chris, urging him on, pulling him deep.

But Vin couldn't do any of the things they usually did, not with his ribs in the shape they were in. Instead, Vin eased onto the bed, his free arm beneath him as he lay on his side. It looked odd, his shirt not covering the bare skin of his ass and legs, the cloth bunched strangely because of the knot of the three ends of the sling tied between Vin's shoulder blades. In this position, he wasn't able to move much at all.

He was completely vulnerable to Chris.

Chris made himself think of other things, anything, to keep himself under control. But as he crawled onto the bed behind Vin, his cock was so hard that he thought it might break off, and it dripped enough to stick to his belly when it wasn't sticking to Vin's shirt. He fumbled the tin of lotion, spilling a little of it on the bedsheet, but he didn't care, not now. He did care when he almost stroked himself off, trying to get the concoction on his erection, only to find that it had some sort of mint in it. For a few seconds, he cursed Nathan, thinking that if this ended too soon, he might run out in the middle of the night and shoot the healer for his thoughtfulness.

Then Vin made a noise that sounded like a snort, and he turned his head so that he could look at Chris over his shoulder. "Don't take it personal if I go to sleep over here while you play with yourself."

Chris grunted, letting go of his cock and slapping Vin on the ass. Vin grinned, his head dropping back down but his back flexed enough for his ass, that perfect ass, to rub against Chris.

From there, it was all instinct, all natural. The heat and tightness were familiar, as were the soft sounds of Vin's sighs and whimpers, the smell of his sweat and soap, the sharp bumps of his shoulders and hips. The position wasn't one they'd tried before, not intentionally, and it took them a few tries to get things the way they wanted them to be. The penetration was slow and not as deep as they were used to, Vin's top leg thrown over Chris' legs, but it also bought them a little more time, holding off Chris' release.

As did Vin's stillness, the rigidness of his upper body as their lower bodies slowly started to move together. Chris could feel the effort it was taking for Vin not to move, the long planes of muscle along Vin's back and across his shoulders tight and unyielding under the cloth of his shirt. Every now and then, he heard Vin's breathing hitch, and he wasn't certain if it was in pain or pleasure - or both.

The fact that Vin was confined helped keep him still, though, and Chris knew that it was part of the tension in his lover. Vin couldn't touch, either himself or Chris; every now and then, he tried to move the arm pinned against him, and Chris benefited with increased pressure along his cock when the attempt ended in failure.

"Dammit!" Vin hissed after one such thwarted effort. He struggled, trying to get his free arm under him to gain leverage, but Chris wormed his lower arm under Vin, catching Vin's wrist.

"Be still," he said, thrusting as deeply as he could then forcing himself to hold the position. It was almost impossible, his body quivering with the effort not to keep moving.

"Dammit!" Vin said again, trying to use his upper leg to force Chris to move, but the angle was wrong. He tugged, trying to free his wrist, but Chris held tight. Without a thought, he bit at the fabric of Vin's shirt, pleased when he caught a little flesh under it and Vin froze. Then Vin groaned, and Chris realized that he wasn't the only one trembling. Carefully, Chris shifted his upper arm, the one that was around Vin's waist, letting his hand drift down over Vin's belly until it brushed against the head of Vin's erection. A second one. Maybe Vin wasn't as opposed to being tied down as he'd thought.

At the contact, Vin groaned again, and he pushed back, wanting more contact, wanting more of Chris.  
Chris started to push, to roll them both so that Vin would be on his belly, but the sling's knot reminded him that he couldn't do that to Vin. They were going to have to do it this way, slower and easier.

He slid his fingers around Vin's cock, drawing back as slowly as he could bear, using his grip on Vin to keep him from pushing back. When the flare of his cock head caught at the soft skin of Vin's entrance, he stopped, once more fighting for his control - and for Vin's. "Wait," he said, or tried to. It came out choked and garbled, and he knew he wasn't going to be doing much more talking. Instead, he slid his hand lower, closing around the base of Vin's erection. He gripped it as hard as he dared, and Vin moaned and wiggled, trying to push.

Chris' ability to think about it was short-lived, his attention narrowing to his own pleasure, trying to control it, to prolong it. His cock went along at first, but after a short time, he was thrusting away, unable to stop himself. He held onto Vin, ignoring the curses and scrabbling as Vin worked for his own release.

It came almost too soon, but Chris was aware. He loosened his hold just a little, stroking Vin's cock. "Come for me," he murmured into Vin's hair, "let go."

Vin cursed him once more, his hips jerking back and forth, his cock rubbing against Chris' hand, then he did as he was told and came, his body twitching.

That was all it took for Chris. It was pure pleasure, surrounded by Vin, holding onto him, and he lost himself in it.

When he came back to himself, some time later, Vin was still, his body limp but pressed against Chris'. His breathing was still quick, but he was relaxed and Chris found that he was, too. He lay with his nose in Vin's hair, his forehead touching the back of Vin's head and his body still tangled with Vin's. His cock, though, was softening and he could feel it sliding clear of Vin's body, until it was held in place only by its width.

"We're gonna stick together," Vin said, his voice sleepy.

Chris smiled, leaning forward to kiss the back of Vin's neck. "Seems like we done decided that," he said, intentionally misinterpreting Vin's words.

Vin snorted, but he moved his leg off of Chris. The shift forced Chris back and separated them. Vin moved a little away, stretching his legs out and straightening his back, but he stayed on his side, not moving the arm under him that Chris still held.

Chris sat up slowly, finding his balance, then he reached down and grabbed up his shirt. It needed washing anyway, so he used it to clean himself off, then, carefully, he wiped at Vin's ass.

Vin turned to look at him, arching one eyebrow. "You must be serious about this," he said with a grin.

Chris looked at him, then he grinned, too, reaching to wipe at Vin's belly, cleaning up what he could. As he tossed the shirt away, he reached for the bedclothes, but before he drew them up, he said, "You want me to untie the sling?"

He pulled the blankets up to their knees, planning to leave them there until he had undone the knots and set Vin free, but he stopped as Vin said softly, "If you're willing to tend to me, seems I should be able to let you, huh. I trust you, after all."

Chris looked at him, catching his eye and seeing the truth there. He smiled, then he pushed back the blankets and got out of bed. At Vin's frown, he said, "Yeah, I'm willing to tend to you." He walked over to the stove, setting it for the night, then moved to the table, grabbing their guns. As he came back to the bed, he found Vin just as he'd left him, on his side, waiting.

He hardly noticed the knot of the sling pressed tight to his chest as he slid into sleep.


End file.
